The Wedding Planner
by everybreatheverymove
Summary: AU: With a successful one night stand finally under her belt, wedding planner April Kepner is determined to not get too attached to her new beau. But when she learns that her latest client is marrying Jackson Avery, her hook-up from the night before, things go from good to bad fast.
1. Oh, Boy

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or anything remotely attached to this show, only the basis of this story.

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE  
** OH, BOY.

* * *

For a woman of her age, moderately young, and her job, stressful, April Kepner sure had managed to maintain a good health regimen, the only trace of her overwork being the frown lines spread out across her forehead.

She runs the tip of her index finger over the creases, shifting her eyebrows up and down to watch her face change.

Maybe she should work less, maybe she should take a break every once in a while.

Lexie always says how she'd overworked, her constant need to handle anything and everything the reason she's so wound up all the time.

 _Going out w/ Mer 2nite, u wanna come too?_

She reads her friend's text aloud, rolling her eyes at the use of common slang. How hard is it too type properly?

Oh, she bites her lip, getting it now. Perhaps she is a little bit tense and touchy and antsy.

But her job requires her to be as close to perfect as she could possibly get, the need for everything to be spot-on eating at her insides every damn day.

If the flower arrangements are only one petal away from perfection, the florist is fired. If the catering isn't on point, the chef is a goner.

April Kepner is a wedding planner.

She likes weddings. She likes flowers, with colour and vigour. She likes romantic music to sway to. She likes grooms with pristine suits and brides with jaw-dropping gowns. She likes the idea of marriage, but fate has never worked in her favour.

Always the bride's bitch, never the actual bride.

But it's not like she'd never had the opportunity.

A couple of years ago, she'd come close to walking down the aisle with a fiancé of her very own. They were both from Christian backgrounds, but he'd somehow convinced that they should have pre-marital sex before their nuptials.

She'd given in, agreed, surrendered her treasured virginity to a man who swore he'd marry her, love her.

But, so he said, things weren't the same after that, and he'd claimed that maybe they "weren't so compatible after all".

Matthew Taylor deserved to rot in hell.

Since then, she'd only had a handful of dates, usually with half-handsome nobodies she'd meet at weddings. But there was no sex, no romance, no chemistry.

Her faith had slightly altered itself with her heartbreak. She figured that pre-marital sex couldn't be so bad to engage in now anyway. She was already virtue-free, what would it matter?

But even offers for a night of casual sex were limited, and nobody clocked her fancy.

Maybe she was doomed to be unloved, forever envious of glowing brides on the happiest days of their lives.

 _Sure._

She types back a quick reply to Lexie, sliding her phone back down on her desk after a moment. "Might as well." April breathes out, pulling her long red locks into a loose ponytail and pulling open the cover of her planner.

She checks her schedule for tomorrow, eyeing the circled and highlighted name scrawled across the 11:00AM entry.

 _ **Edwards. Montgomery Plaza. 11:15AM.**_

The redhead nods to herself, picking up her pencil and scribble a few notes with extremely neat penmanship and a Post-It note attached to the top of her page.

 _Wear sthg cute._

She rolls her eyes at the text, watching as she screen flashes before her.

 _Like what?_

She stands up with her phone in hand, walking around to locate her purse.

 _Idk._

"Thank you, Lexie. That was so helpful." She groans, slipping her phone into a new clutch purse and sorting out the contents before popping open her wardrobe.

Her work attire usually consists of an ironed blouse and a pencil skirt with some kind of design printed on the front and some kitten heels, low but not elderly.

"Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute." April rummages through her clothing, lips pursed and eyes squinting. She doesn't do 'cute', she does 'nice.'

With a final flick of her dresses, she spots a just-above-the-knee-length pale green dress, a curve-hugger and shoulder-barer.

Tilting her head to the side, she eyes it carefully. It's shorter than her regular knee-stopping skirt, but long enough to not come across as slutty. She'd have sex if the opportunity arose, but she's in no hurry to find a one night stand to hit it and quit it with.

"It'll do."

* * *

"Well, don't you scrub up nicely!" Lexie mocks, holding out a glass full of red wine with a smirk on her pink lips.

"I always scrub up nicely." April retorts back, brow raised and hazel eyes wandering the room.

She dabs her tongue against her teeth as she brings the glass closer to her lips.

"So, that's a nice choice." Lexie waves a hand down at her green ensemble with an approving smile. "Hoping to get some?"

"No." She keeps a straight face, avoiding her friend's gaze.

"You can, you know? I don't think God would mind at this point. Heck, he's probably got some money going in our wager." The brunette giggles, sharing a look with her sister a few stools down.

"Wager?"

"Uh." Lexie pauses, holding up a finger with a deer caught in headlights expression. "Nope. No. I don't know what I was saying." She shakes her head regrettably, "So, yeah. Let's get you laid, shall we?"

* * *

"So, Cliff, where are you from?" Lexie sups on her tequila, eyeing the man carefully.

The blonde haired man tugs on his tie, diverting his eyes back from April's cleavage. "I, uh, Michigan. Moved here back in November." He clears his throat, wipes the sweat from the bridge of his nose.

Lexie stiffs back a laugh at his obvious anxiety. Maybe he doesn't talk to girls that often.

"D'you wanna take me back to your place? Maybe show me around your bedroom for an hour… or two?"

April giggles, failing to hide her evident grin with her wine glass. "Lex."

He gulps a breath, "I'm not sure my mom would like that."

"You live with your mom?" Lexie squeaks, looking down to April briefly.

"That's…cute."

"It was nice meeting you, Cliff." The brunette pulls on April's arm before she can get another word in, dragging her back towards the bar where Meredith is waiting for them.

"Success?" The light brunette leans back against the counter.

"That guy would have either murdered one of us, or gotten his mom to do it for him. No. That was not a success."

Her best friend Cristina pops up from behind the bar then, a five dollar bill in her hand. "Do I owe money, yet?"

"Nope. Red still hasn't scored."

April frowns, placing her glass down on the bar and folding her arms over her chest, clutch tucked beneath her bicep, "Are you all really betting on this?"

"Of course." The curly haired woman behind the bar smirks, shaking her money around smugly, "You getting laid is like Moses parting the sea." Cristina nods to reaffirm her comparison, "Nobody sees it, and yet we all believe it. If you're getting some, I want my share."

"That makes no sense, but whatever, I'm going to ignore you now." April spins around to watch the club goers dancing, prancing, chatting.

She's not jealous of them. She's just a little envious of what might happen.

Wait, is she- Is she horny? Well, this is a rare occurrence.

It's either her hormones on full drive or she is as cranky as Lexie says she is. Maybe a little bit of both, even.

"Hottie, two o'clock." Her friend nudges her side, with a bony elbow poking her in the rib through the thin material of her tight dress. "This one doesn't look like a creeper."

As soon as she peeks across the room, April spots a tall, dark-haired man walking over to them. He has the features of a Hollywood movie star, the body of an athlete, the style of a erotica novel heroine's dream.

Damn it. This fine specimen can't possibly be for her.

"Hey."

"Hi." She chews on her bottom lip, ignores Lexie's stare from the corner of her eye.

"I gotta say, you look amazing." He grins, holding out his hand, "D'you wanna dance, maybe?"

He's forward, and she's a little swept off her feet.

She doesn't tell him that she doesn't dance like he probably wants her to, that she's used to ballroom dance classes and wedding hall waltzes.

April walks off with him after only a second's thought, after quickly passing Lexie her clutch and watching as Cristina hands Meredith her five dollars with a chuckle.

Done deal?

Not so fast.

She hears the sound of a familiar eighties' song playing in the background, one she used to listen to as a young girl. And it kind of wrecks the mood.

"You got moves?"

April wants to cringe at the cheesiness of his question, but instead manages to keep a moderately straight face. "I, uh- Not really. I'm more of a ballroom dance kind of woman."

She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, flicking her lashes and lowering her gaze to her hips when he drops rough hands to her waist.

"I bet I can change that."

"Uh, okay." She fakes a smile, slightly regrets following him away from the safety of her friends.

She does straightforward men. She likes straightforward men. But she almost loathes egotistical assholes.

His hands tighten on her hips, squeezing her body in his hold and forcing her hips from side to side.

She lets him continue for a moment, faking a smile and shifting her shoulders to same rhythm.

But then his grasp pulls her closer, and she's thrust against his hard chest, and he,s trying to kiss her neck.

With a shove of her hands against his abdomen, she tries to pull away from the man, but to no prevail as he refuses to let her go.

"Come on. We were just starting." He frowns with a slight smirk and grimaces at his look.

"Let me go."

"Nah, come on. We're just dancing." She feels his breath against the side of her neck, and feels the internal need to vomit.

This is disgusting. This is revolting.

She finally shoves him hard enough to push him a good step away from her, and before he can grab her again, a deep voice comes to her defence.

"Leave her alone, man." The intruder shakes his head, steps between the two of them, with his body half turned towards her.

He raises both brows, green eyes deepening as the older man snarls.

"Who the hell are you?"

"That doesn't matter. Walk away." He moves a hand out, ignoring the looks of a few people around them.

The handsy man shrugs, backing off, "Whatever. Have fun with that one." He points at April, and she ducks her head to avoid his eyes, almost disgusted with herself for letting him touch her.

The other guy nods as the man walks away casually, and then he turns to face the redhead with a somewhat concerned stare. "Are you okay?"

She nods once, licking her lips as she glances up to face the stranger, taken aback by his handsome looks and deep smile.

"I'm fine. I think I had him sorted anyway, but… thanks."

The darker skinned man nods, offering a hand for her to shake. "Well, I'm glad you're alright, …" He trails off his words, waiting for her to continue.

"April."

"April. I'm Jackson. Hi." The green-eyed man smiles, noticing her faint blush at his handshake, probably feeling the same spark he did upon contact.

The planner moistens her lips with her tongue then, flicking him a quick look, "I should, uh, get back to-"

"Not to him, right?"

"No. No, not to him." She almost giggles at his joke, pushing her hair behind both ears with flushed cheeks. "Gosh, no. To, uh, my friends, at the bar."

"Right." Jackson grins, finally letting her hand drop and sliding his hands into his trouser pockets. "So, are you guys leaving now, or-"

"Uh, no." April knits both brows, folds her arms over her chest. "Why?"

He licks his bottom lip, "Because I have to do something quickly, but if you're still not busy after that, then I'd like to buy you a drink."

"Oh." She nods once, twice, again.

What does Lexie always tell her to do? Play hard to get?

"I'll guess you'll have to come and find me then."

She teases with a soft smirk, long lashes flickering as she turns to walk away, leaving Jackson to watch her stride back towards her group.

Oh, boy.

* * *

"Who was that guy you were talking to that wasn't the guy you walked away with?"

Meredith rests an elbow against the bar, eyes the redhead carefully with motherly eyes. She's definitely the designated mom of the group when she wants to be.

April stills, quickly downing the rest of her abandoned wine resting at Lexie's side. "An improved version of the first guy?" She tries, innocently smiling behind the glass. "He's perfect."

"I know, I saw those dimples!" Her best friend turns to gush, dish, point out another detail she knows April will fawn over.

"Well, if he is as amazing as you think he is, then how about you bang him…and I can get my ten bucks back?" Cristina shows off a toothy smile, childish but smug.

"Ten? I thought it was five!"

"Well, Mer bet that you'd head off with the first guy. Then Little Grey decided that you'd probably end up getting swooped off your feet by some other dude. And I changed my bet to you getting it on with Dude Number Two, so…yeah…that makes me ten bucks short."

April nods, though she fails to see how this is amusing to her friends.

She doesn't believe she's as stuck up as they seem to think she is, and while she's never been too sure on the idea of having a random fling with some guy she just met, this one is seeming like a pretty perfect candidate for a hook-up.

"Where is Mr Handsome, anyway? What, he just chats you up then takes off?"

"He said he'd buy me a drink if I was still around. He just had something important to do first, I don't know." The redhead shrugs, maintaining a cool façade and careless expression. "Screw him if he doesn't come back." Figuratively, of course. She doesn't need him anyway. He'd just make a nice…second…knotch on her bedpost.

"Any chance you're still thirsty?"

She almost chokes on the final sip of her red wine when she hears his newly familiar voice behind her, low and husky and already powerful enough to make her weak.

April turns around slowly to face him, "Hi." She trails the "i", her cheeks reddening as she realises she'd spoken aloud. "You're still here."

"I can leave, if you want? Yeah. You know what, I'll leave." He points a finger out towards the exit, amused grin tugging at his lips.

She tries not to let her gaze linger on his mouth for too long. She fails. No shocker there.

"No, no. Stay." Her shoulders drop, her eyes widening as her own lips part to talk. He fails, too, for whatever that's worth. "I'll have that drink now. If you'll still have me." She can't help but smirk bashfully at her suggestion.

"I would have you any way you like."

"Did you just-"

" _Day_! Any _day_ you like!" He ducks his head briefly, rubbing a hand down his face. "Should we just drink or something?"

She giggles, steps closer to him and away from her friends, "Yeah. Let's do that!"

* * *

"Your couch is, uh… _couchy_?"

A couple drinks and an offer to drive her home, and she'd ended up at his place after begging him to see the new designed he'd been talking about. She liked design, perfection.

His face creases in bemusement, watching as she lightly bounces up and down on one of the leather seats.

"Is that a new way of saying it's comfortable?" He jokes, sitting down beside her, on the arm of the two-seater, passing her a small glass of scotch.

"It's my way of saying it's uncomfortable." She reasons back, head tilted as she catches his eyes, bringing the glass up to her lips.

Ah, alcohol. Thankfully, she isn't drunk. Or, is she? Well, if she is, then he is, too. Which makes this double the fun, double the trouble.

"Right." Jackson nods, turning his body sideways to face her side directly. He digs his feet into the empty leather seat, glass of scotch resting in his palm. "Well, on behalf of the couch creator, I am truly sorry for purchasing such madness."

She snorts with a laugh, unintentionally, and her eyes widen. Then she laughs, aware of her little slip of noise. He smiles down at her, admiring the freckles spread across her shoulders and the crinkle in her nose when she laughs.

"And, well, please tell me if there's anything I can do to make it more comfortable for you." He swallows a breath, notices the way she places her glass down after only the smallest of sips. Thankfully, they aren't drunk. Or…okay, maybe they are a little bit.

"I'm very imaginative, you know? I'm…somewhat…of an artist." She half lies, half considers her profession an art. Chewing at her bottom lip, April spins around on the couch to face him more clearly, dress raising up her lap as she tucks her legs beneath her body. "I could think of a few things you could do."

"Yeah?" His eyes are darker than before.

Resting up on her knees, April shuffles onto his side of the new couch, palms flat against her thighs.

She's nervous but alcohol provides a kick. And he's charming, and attractive, and he likes her.

Just play hard to get.

"You could lie me down, have me any way you want." She teases, referencing his earlier slip of the tongue. With a sly grin, April straightens her back, leans up to draw herself closer to him.

His breath an inch away from her pert lips, Jackson sighs deeply, unable to tear his eyes away from her own deep hazel ones. "You're drunk."

"So are you." April responds snappily, moving her hands to finally grasp at his shirt, fingertips curling around the collar, touching his skin slightly. "Do you not want me?"

"I want you very, very badly."

Pushing her forehead against his own, she whispers, "Then take me." A soft smile graces her lips as she continues. "Or, you know, Jack, you could draw me like one of your French girls."

He falls into laughter at that, hands moving to cup the sides of her face in adoration. "Never quote Titanic to me when I'm going to kiss you." His lips curled, he leans down to capture her own lips, thumbs sweeping her cheekbones lightly.

She feels herself nod involuntarily at his kiss, letting her mouth drift open, hands moving to grasp at his neck hungrily.

It's either alcohol or stupidity that has him lay her down on his new couch, under his touch and in complete control.

"You sure we should do this?" He manages to breathe out after a second, when she's already unzipping the back of her dress and pulling down the thin straps to bare her strapless bra.

"No. But neither are you, so I think we'll be fine. Two negatives make a positive, right?" She gulps, wrapping her legs around his backside and pulling him down on top of her. "Kiss me again."

Alcohol or stupidity.

* * *

When she wakes up the following morning, all she really feels is a pounding in her head, the ache making her throw a hand up to rub her temple gently.

The second thing she notices is that she's not alone in the foreign bed, a tanned man with amazing biceps lying naked beside her.

The third and final thing she feels is that she isn't clothed either. The sheet is rubbing freely against her breasts and she grasps at the material securely as the man begins to move.

"Hey." He squints from the blinding sunlight creeping in through his shutters, and he throws an arm over his face as he turns to lie on his back.

April smiles gently, trying to keep a steady heartbeat. How the heck did she end up finally scoring…with him?!

"Hi." She shyly replies back, brushing her fingers through her red curls to check her appearance. She smells her breath on the back of her hand and cringes, disgusted at the alarming scent of alcohol. "Does your breath stink, too?"

He groans, shrugging against his pillow and peeking one eye open at her, "Probably." Jackson turns to face her, moving a hand to her face and caressing her cheek delicately, "Who cares?" He smiles, kisses her quickly, sweetly.

She pulls away with minor hesitation, "I should probably go home."

"Do you want me to drive you?"

"No." She replies back almost too quickly. "Not…it's not you. Or, I don't know, maybe it is." April shakes her head swiftly against her pillow, licking her lips to soften their dryness.

He lingers closer, "Because if I take you home then you'll let me in and we'll have morning coffee and sex? And you don't want that?"

"Not today." She confirms.

"What about if we just have coffee here? Or just sex?" He suggests. "Or, you know, coffee and sex, I'm sure we could find ways of making that work." The man teases her again, poking at her naked side with a finger, tracing the freckles along her ribcage.

April clenches her stomach, tingly from his touch. "That sounds amazing." Her breath hitches on the last word when he leans down and kisses along her side, starting with the skin beside her breast, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses down to her hip.

"Sex?"

Her chest pants heavily as he nears her thighs, gleaming up at her through his lashes, wicked look in his eyes.

"Work." She shifts out from under him at her own disapproval, resting her hands on his broad shoulders to pull him up alongside her. "Don't you have stuff to do?"

"I can work the bedroom, if you'd like?"

She rolls her eyes at that, glaring at him as she stands up.

"Okay, fine. I have a meeting in a couple hours, but- Oh, come on!" He kneels up, dragging the sheet around his waist as he admires her naked body redress. "You can't just do that and then leave!"

"Do what?" She raises a brow, pulls on her abandoned panties from the night before.

"That." He nods as though it's obvious, "I want you back in my bed. Right now."

April smiles proudly. Playing hard to get is clearly working for her.

She leans down to pick up her bra, waving it around briefly. "Is this killing you?" She bites her bottom lip, takes a step closer to him so he can touch her, fingertips wrapping around her backside.

"Stay with me."

"I'll leave you my number, okay?" April kisses the top of his teasingly before pulling away and slipping her bra on over her chest before retrieving her dress across the room.

She slides the green material over her shoulders, pulling down the hem and looking around for her shoes.

"I'll be calling you later today."

"I believe you." Deciding that her lost shoes would be somewhere in his living room, she aptly decides to bid him farewell. "Thank you for last night, Jackson."

He grins, throwing himself back down on the bed, "No. Thank you."

She closes his bedroom door then, determined to get her shoes back and leave him forever.

The whole point of a one night stand is to hit it and quit it, right? So why does she feel so compelled to write her number down for him like she said she would?

Slipping on her forgotten heels lingering by the sofa, she eyes the pad of Post-It notes on the coffee table.

* * *

It's only when she arrives home that she realises she'd forgotten her purse last night.

But luckily Lexie is the best friend she could have ever asked for because she finds her clutch sat on her kitchen table once she enters her apartment, after finally retrieving the spare key from under a random plant pot.

"I want details. Here's a decaf." There's a small note attached to a Starbucks coffee and April smiles.

Checking the time on the hanging clock above her doorway, she realises that there's only an hour left until her latest appointment. She really isn't in the mood to lose a client because of one drunken night out.

"Great." She quickly whips around the bathroom, through a quick shower and a thorough teeth brushing routine with mouthwash and floss.

Remove any trace of alcohol, of unprofessionalism. Hide all evidence of what happened last night.

When she's finally picked out an outfit fit for her meeting, a pink blouse and cream skirt, she slips on her favourite pair of heels and checks over her appearance.

Hair half-down, faint barely-there makeup, and a watch as the only accessory. Perfect.

She hitches a cab ride to the Montgomery Plaza, spotting the time on the cabby's clock as she goes. 11:10AM. Oh, boy.

He drops her off at the entrance of the building, and she quickly tips him before she has to speed walk and elegantly jog towards the ballroom. Files in one hand and coffee in the other, she's on a mission.

These are the days April Kepner likes best, believe it or not.

She makes it on time, just arriving as the bride to be is turning around to face her.

She's beautifully dark-skinned, with long curly black hair and a fancy dress sense.

"Stephanie Edwards?" April stops in front of the slightly younger woman, holding out a hand to shake.

The brunette smiles agreeably, shaking her hand in delight. "April Kepner, ah! I finally get to meet you!" She gushes, "Sorry, it's just… You did my friend Jo's wedding and she said you were amazing, so I'm eager to get started!"

"Same here." April laughs, tucks some hair behind her ear, "So, the Montgomery, huh?"

Stephanie nods with a proud smile as she glances around the amazingly decorated ballroom, "It's amazing, isn't it? My fiancé is friends with one of the owners so they're letting us use it as our venue."

With a nod, the redhead's smile widens. "That's incredible, wow! I'm not sure I've ever been dealt with a wedding this grandiose before."

"Well, we don't want anything too extravagant, though. You know? And, I mean, I say 'we' but it's mostly just 'me'. My man doesn't like this kind of thing. He's more of the leave-everything-until-the-last-minute type." Stephanie purses her lips with a soft giggle. "Rough night?"

April looks over at the bride-to-be with a confused frown until she points at the redhead's neck, finger aiming directly at a hickey at the base of her throat.

"Oh." The wedding planner coughs, sniffles, "Yes. That." She smiles politely, eyes wide as she changes the subject. "So, where is your groom?"

She opens the page of her planner, scribbles some words down for tomorrow's date.

"He's here somewhere." She shrugs, "I don't know. He said he had a late start to his morning. I guess he was just watching TV or something."

"Right. Yeah." April nods, "So, should we look around now, or wait for hi-"

A melodious voice interrupts her before she can finish her sentence, and April pauses, her body turning cold.

"Sorry I'm late."

The woman's fiancé stops beside his intended bride, hands on his hips and hood thrown over his head.

"Would you take that thing off, Jack? I don't want our wedding planner to think you're a hobo." Stephanie muses, flicking a look to April.

The redhead plasters a smile on her lips, refusing to admit defeat in her job.

The groom turns to face April then, face draining of all colour when he spots the gorgeous crimson haired woman.

"Hi."

"Hello." She offers her hand, ignores the spark that shoots through her when he shakes her hand falsely, pretending he hadn't been caressing her skin with his lips less than two hours earlier.

Liar. Cheater. Pig. Asshole. Idiot.

"Jack, right?"

"Jackson." He confirms, straight-faced and throat suddenly dry.

April licks her lips, forcefully pulls her hand away from his own.

Oh, boy.

"Great. Let's get started then, shall we?" She mutters with a false smile through gritted teeth.

Play hard to get, they say.

Fuck that.

Things couldn't get any harder if she tried.

* * *

 **NOTE** : I know, I know. I have plenty more fics to update before I even think about starting a whole new venture. But when inspiration strikes, it strikes, right? It's best I just write what I feel when I feel it, and don't force any updates that'll only be half-arsed. I hope you enjoy this fic, and it's definitely taking a different approach than the movie did. Thanks for reading (and reviewing) :)

* * *

I imagine some lovely guest reviewers will have some harsh words to say about this because _it doesn't feature_ _rape, or unicorns or rainbows, or women portrayed as submissive creatures to their men_ , and well, it's by **me**. You hate me for no reason whatsoever, rude Guest reviewer who combines my name with Annie's for no reason whatsoever other than that you're severely deranged, so please read something else by someone other than myself. Excuse me for actually being able to write something good, of substance, in-character. Leaving anonymous hate is laughable. Have fun.


	2. Oh, Dignity

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or anything remotely attached to this show, only the basis of this story.

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO  
** OH, DIGNITY.

* * *

"He's what?!"

April flicks off the tap as Lexie exclaims her shock down the phone, head tilted to the side to dig the mobile in against her cheek.

"Engaged. He's engaged, Lex, and the bride is my freaking client!" She grits her teeth as she mutters back the confirmation, eyeing the washroom carefully.

She'd managed to briefly escape from under Stephanie's controlling hands. There's only so many times the redhead can have someone claw at her shoulder with a fake laugh.

The women's bathroom seemed like the perfect place to call her best friend in the hopes of some sage advice.

"You need to tell her." The brunette nods down on her end, browsing through her latest shopping catalogue and clicking her tongue. "You're not the bad guy here, April. He's a dick."

April sighs, turning away from the sink to pull down on the paper towel dispenser. She drags down on the last piece but finds a whole clump of towels falling into her hands and onto the ground.

"Well, that unraveled quickly."

"What?"

"Nothing." She quickly kneels down to pick up the stack of towels as she replies with a deep breath, "Is it bad that I wanna give him the benefit of the doubt?"

She can feel Lexie roll her eyes down the line by the way she talks, tone unamused, "Yes. And you better not let him win."

April groans, shoving the towels deep into an overflowing trashcan as an elderly woman enters the bathroom. She kicks down on the papers to force them into the bin, sending the woman a sheepish grin. "Hi."

"Who are you talking to?"

"Nobody. I'm talking to nobody." She breathes out again, leans her back against the fancy sink countertop, fingers anxiously plucking at the shiny brass taps. "Lex."

"Burn him at the stake, April! It's not hard."

"I can't. I liked him and this is… He was nice. And good. And he's getting married… Ugh!" She closes her eyes, wraps her fist around the cold water tap, tugs at its end tightly.

Before she knows what she's done, the fresh cold piece of brass is in her hand and she finds herself flooded with water in her face, forcing her backwards, across the room and against one of the cubicle doors.

The elder woman steps out of her stall then, hands gripping at the frame as April stands up, short heels sliding against the flooding room.

"Okay. Out, come on, out!" She ushers the woman towards the exit, hand on her elbow to guide her towards the door. "Sorry." She mutters as she drags the door open and they step out of the bathroom, guilty look spread over the redhead's face.

The woman rushes away from the wedding planner then, just as April returns to Stephanie, thankful that the bride's back was turned towards the scene.

"Oh my gosh, what happened?" The dark haired woman shrieks as she takes in April's drenched attire. Her false nails poke at her shoulders, as though the soaked fabric of her dress wasn't real.

Jackson's eyes widen as he takes her in, curious as to what the heck happened in the bathroom.

The redhead licks her lips with a click of the tongue, ruined iPhone waving around in her hand. She nods once, twice, before looking up and sharing an embarrassed look with Stephanie.

"Some old lady broke the tap." April fakes a sniffle from the cold water, "You know how old people are… Clumsy." She trails off with a shake of the head, nostrils flaring as she spots the woman out of the corner of her eye, talking to a Hall employee and pointing at her from down the hall.

Her hazel eyes bulging out of her head when they start walking towards her.

April pushes her hands against Stephanie's shoulder-blades gently, ushering her out towards the exit of the building. Jackson follows the pair with a frown, quiet as he had been since taking in her position.

"I think we should go check out some cakes now, huh?" April fakes a giggle, brows raised in feigned amusement, "Yeah? I booked some places."

Stephanie stops walking when they get outside the building and she shrugs off April's hands politely. "We're not going anywhere." She swallows, shares a look with her fiancé. "You're in no state to go tasting food. You could catch a cold!"

April shrugs casually, in an awkwardly innocent way, Jackson notes.

"You're not firing me, are you?"

"No! Lord, no! But just…go home, get changed. Gosh, I mean you look like a drowned squirrel."

"Thanks."

"Come on, Jackson will take you home so you can change." The darker woman nudges his side, sending him a look, "Won't you?"

"I, uh-" He'd been awfully quiet since they're arrival, since spotting the redhead.

A guilty conscience would obviously lead to a loss of words, April noted.

"It's fine. He doesn't need to do that." She internally shudders at the thought of being left alone in a car with him. "I can drive myself." She states.

Liar. Cheater. Pig. Asshole. Idiot.

Her tone is harsh, just as she means it to be. But Stephanie doesn't seem to pick up on the obvious tension between her groom and their wedding planner.

She glances between the pair disbelievingly, "You don't have a car." She lifts a brow, "Come on. Don't be foolish. He'll take you home and then you can both come meet me at the bakery, okay?"

"Sure."

Of course he'd agree. April rolls her eyes with a false smile, arms folded over her chest as she pulls up the strap of her soaking wet handbag.

"It's Little Izzie's, right?"

"Yeah." The redhead speaks softly with a nod, avoiding Jackson's gaze at all costs as he leads her towards his car.

Stephanie smiles, waving around her keys as she approaches her own car. "See you there."

When she's out of eyesight, the green eyed man finally clears his throat.

"Don't talk to me."

"I didn't say anything." He replies back dryly.

April snorts, "But you were going to."

"Yeah." He sighs, twirling his keys around as they stop in front of his car. "I was going to apologize."

"Well, you can shove your apology up your butt, okay?" She snarls, roughly pulls open the back door of his car when it unlocks.

"Why are you getting in the back?"

"Because you're in the front!"

* * *

After an awkward car ride where only her address was mumbled through gritted teeth and the sound of her hand banging against her phone screen was heard, they'd made it to her apartment.

"You can stay in the car."

"I planned to." He taps his fingers against the steering wheel as the car shuts off.

April shifts out from the backseat and shares the briefest of looks with him in the rearview mirror. "Don't look at me."

"I was checking my mirror."

"And I was in it."

He tosses his head back against the headrest then, as she slams the door to his SUV and stalks off down her building pathway.

He's an idiot, a liar, a cheater. And he doesn't like it.

But she's her, and Stephanie is Stephanie, and the pull to one is stronger than the pull to the other.

Peeking through the passenger window, he watches intently as April rummages through her purse, digging and searching from something.

She pulls out a half-soaked planner and whines aloud, tossing it down on the concrete floor outside. "No, no, no!"

The woman drops down onto the front step then, legs kicked out in front of her and drenched coat clinging to her frame.

"Give me your bag."

She glances up at the sound of Jackson's voice, in front of her with a hand held out.

"What, are you gonna rob me of that, too, now? Like my dignity wasn't enough?"

He grimaces, takes the purse from her hands when she passes it to him and he quickly pulls out her keys, leaning back her smallest sat frame to unlock the front door.

The door pushes open and she stands steadily against the frame, snatching her bag back from his hands. And then the planner he hands her.

"I am sorry, you know?"

"Sorry doesn't make it okay."

She steps inside the building then, leaving the door open behind her, which he takes as an invitation to follow her.

"I know." He mumbles, watching her lead the way up the first flight of stairs. She stops at the top, rams another key through another lock.

She pads into her apartment at a fast pace, only just watches him enter past her front door before she heads off to change, peel the sticky outfit from her body.

Her apartment is perfectly clean, he notes, admiring the small touches of femininity and tranquility. Her house is kind of a home. And there's only her living here.

She reemerges after a couple minutes, makeup fixed, hair pulled up into a swaying ponytail and a pale blue dress contrasting with her cream pumps.

April doesn't speak for a moment, just eyes him carefully from across the living room. She darts her tongue out to dampen her lips, feeling goosebumps cover her skin as he takes a step closer. And she takes a step backwards to avoid him.

"Did you know?"

She sounds pained, hurt. And he can't blame her. He was a douche.

"That I was getting married? Yeah." Jackson frowns, brows knitting as he lowers his gaze to the floor, though his walk betrays him as he steps towards her again.

She nods, lips pursed and fingertips patting the towel-dried planner in her hands, covering her lap and damp against her touch. "And you didn't think to tell me?" She doesn't let him answer before shaking her head, disbelieving laugh to her words, "Gosh, I'm such an idiot. Why did I let you do it?!"

 _Because you didn't know. Because I didn't want to tell you. Because there was a pull. Because you don't know everything, not even now._

"Because you were you, and I was me." Jackson admits, voice low and husky and hands sliding in his jeans' pockets. "And we were good. Very good. And at the risk of sounding like a complete asshole, I kinda like you." He blinks once, twice, three time with a gulp. "And you might like me, too."

"Whether or not I liked you doesn't matter."

"Liked? Past tense?" He steps closer, damns himself for even having the nerve. "You don't like me anymore?"

 _I do. Because there's a pull. And because I'm me and you're you._

She fights a smile, a blush at his intense stare. "I like you, but I also kind of hate you."

"Well, I don't like that you hate me."

"Well, that's your own fault." She stands by her gut feeling, unable to let herself fall deeper into this with him.

Jackson nods, nipping at his bottom lip with sharp teeth, "I deserve that."

"You deserve a heck of a lot more than that." She states, eyes daring. "I'd smack the living crap out of you but I'm pretty sure your fiancée wouldn't like that. You know, your fiancée? That woman you're marrying in a few weeks who seems to adore you? Do you remember her?"

"I know who she is, thanks."

"Do you even love her or are you just-"

"That's none of your business." He squints with a nod.

April huffs, "It became my business when you slept with me, and charmed me, and then turned out to be getting married. It's my business, because I'm the girl that has to plan your freaking wedding and watch you walk down the aisle knowing that you cheated on your wife before she was your wife."

She swallows a breath, dangerously walks closer towards him.

"That's my business. Okay? I now have to pretend that I don't know you, and I have to act like I don't know how you kiss. I'm that girl. And your business? Your business is to tell her the truth so I don't have to suffer. Do that, if you're really sorry."

"I can't." He tells her quietly, eyes flickering up from the ground to meet her own.

"Do you love her?" She shifts her head to the side, determined not to crack.

"I don't know."

"Look, I'm not going to step in your way if you want to marry her, alright? That's not my place. I'm just the idiot who kinda wanted you for a moment and now has to pay the price. But I'm not sure you love her. Because I don't see how people in love could ever do what you did."

"You haven't met you." He reasons back, flicks a nerve.

"Don't blame this on me. Don't even-" She cuts herself off short when he places his hands on her upper arms, warm fingers wrapped around her skin, "Can you call it off?" Her voice breaks at his touch, letting her head drop and her lips curve into a fragile smile.

"I have to marry her."

"Then do it." She shrugs off his hands and walks towards her front door, "Just don't say you want me, too."

"What if I like you more than I could ever love her?"

"Then I guess you're gonna be just as screwed up as I am."

* * *

"I like this one."

Stephanie points a finger out at a lilac-iced cake, triple-tiered with white flower petal designs.

"It's nice, yeah." April smiles loosely, hazel eyes almost glossed over, "Are we, uh, going for purple as our colour scheme then? Lilac and lavender are a popular choices, for sure."

The dark-haired woman purses her lips, flicks over a look at her clearly bored groom-to-be.

"What do you think? For colours?"

"I don't really…know." He shifts from one foot to the other, shoulders dropping in a shrug, "This isn't exactly my forté."

"True." Stephanie confirms with a slight giggle, "I guess April will have to fill your shoes, then. She has exquisite taste."

The redhead shares a look with Jackson, "I'm not so sure about that."

He sighs, pulls his hands out of his pockets and scratches the back of his neck for a second. "Well, you know, if April has such a great taste then how about we let her do everything?"

April picks up his intended tease, pun. And she can't help but loosen a smirk, betraying her senses.

Is she playing hard to get again? Isn't that dangerous?

"I don't really think we should let her take care of everything, Jackson." Stephanie rolls her eyes, glances over at the redhead, "I mean you don't wanna be doing all his jobs, do you?"

"I, uh-" She pauses, bites back a grin at the hidden innuendo, avoids Jackson's own smirk. "No. Not really."

Jackson raises a brow, steps towards the two women, one at either side of his body, "Isn't that the job, what you do best?"

"It's not my job to service you."

"But it's your job to give us everything we want, right? And if we want you, and I want you to do stuff for me, then-"

"I'm not your bitch."

"I don't think your anybody's bitch." He replies with a nod, smirk gracing his lips, fiancée forgotten about. "I think you are your own free woman. That's admirable."

"And yet you want me all to yourself?"

Surprisingly, Stephanie only watches the exchange with curious eyes, no concern showing on her face whatsoever.

And April takes a mental note, later written, of the lack of romantic chemistry between the newlyweds to be.

They don't kiss. They don't hug. They don't touch. They don't share lovey dovey looks like ninety percent of all her couples do. There's no longing, no love.

Something isn't right here.

And then the game changes.

And April is one hundred percent back to playing hard to get.

 _Do you love her?_

 _What if I like you more than I could ever love her?_

"Is it so bad to want you…to do your job?" He clears up with a nervous cough and a look to his intended.

The brunette frowns, "So…purple?"

* * *

"Do they flirt?"

"Nope." April curls her legs up beneath her on the couch as Lexie pours them both another glass of wine.

"Does she call him by pet names? From what you tell me, she sounds like the type."

The wedding planner denies it, shaking her head as he reaches over for the glass. "Nothing. And I am…confused."

"That still doesn't make it right." Lexie sits down on her cushion on the floor, picking up a cookie from the tray and shoving it past her lips. "He still shouldn't have led you on."

"I know." April sighs with an almost mute reply, "I know that. But it's hard to hate him."

"Because you forgive people too easily."

"Because I'm a decent person?"

"Because you're desperate for love even though you deny it. And that's fine. We all are, deep down. And he says he likes you. It makes sense."

After taking a giant sip of her wine, April leans her head back against the sofa cushion.

"Just ask him."

"I did. I asked him if he loved her and he said he didn't know. Lexie, I like him."

Lexie smiles half-heartedly, "Do you know how anti-feminist it'd be to try and steal him away from another woman?"

"But what if he doesn't love her?"

"Then he needs to quit it. And you shouldn't have to be the promised goods at the end of that. He needs to grow a pair."

"Oh, he has a pair."

The brunette tosses her a pillow as April gasps, a hand flying over her mouth at her own admission.

Placing her glass down, Lexie holds up both hands together and slowly begins to draw them apart, with a smirk and an envious look on her face as April finally stops her after a few seconds. "Shit! No wonder you want him!"

"Why is he getting married? Why am I an idiot?" She tosses herself back against the couch, whine of childish annoyance escaping past her lips.

"Look, and I'm not suggesting you do it, but… I mean, he clearly isn't into his marriage so you could actually be doing him a favour… But, say you were to try and steal him away, would it even work? Would he leave whatever he's got going with her for you?"

"It couldn't hurt to try, right?" She lifts a brow, peeking one eye open over at her friend down on the floor. "Should I steal the groom?"

"If you were anybody else, I'd lock you away and never let you see him again. But you're you, and you can handle yourself, and if you feel like something right and you have a fighting chance… Then… Yeah."

Lexie nods as she talks, raising her glass up with a devilish grin.

"Fucking steal the groom."

Or humiliate yourself trying.

* * *

 **NOTE** : The response to this story has been great and I'm glad so many people seem to be enjoying it, here and elsewhere. It really means a lot that you guys read/review it. This is a shorter update but sets up more of the storyline. Thanks for reading, and I hope you keep enjoying what I do. :)

* * *

I imagine some lovely guest reviewers will have some harsh words to say about this because _it doesn't feature_ _rape, or unicorns or rainbows, or women portrayed as submissive creatures to their men_ , and well, it's by **me**. You hate me for no reason whatsoever, rude Guest reviewer who combines my name with Annie's for no reason whatsoever other than that you're severely deranged, so please read something else by someone other than myself. Excuse me for actually being able to write something good, of substance, in-character. Leaving anonymous hate is laughable. Have fun.


	3. Oh, Pride

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or anything remotely attached to this show, only the basis of this story.

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE  
** OH, PRIDE.

* * *

"One last question." April holds up a finger as she flicks through the note-filled pages in her little red book. She glances up at the couple with a smile, "Are you going to be having individual bachelor and bachelorette parties or are we combining them?"

"Individual."

"Combining would make things easier."

Their conflicting answers allow the redhead a second to close her notebook and clasp her hands over the cover.

"Don't you think we're a little past that?"

"I'm sorry, have you been married before? Have you had a bachelorette party before?" The green eyed man questions, refusing to give up on his manly festivities. "You can't be past something you've never had. We're having separate parties." He replies, directing his words mainly toward April.

She would have nodded if Stephanie hadn't interrupted.

"Oh, you haven't wanted any part in the planning up until now but as soon as she mentions drinking and hitting up the bar, you're right there, huh? Right on board!"

"At least I'm on board." He mumbles, receiving a death stare in return from his bride-to-be.

"Fine. We're having separate events."

The wedding planner clicks her tongue, takes a breath. "Great, so I'll get it touch with the best man and maid of honour to try and work them into our schedule, okay?" April grins, standing from her seat at the shiny dining hall table.

Their respective families were rich, upper class business people. Entrepreneurs and heirs. And the house they'd share once they were married was seriously intimidating to the farm-grown redhead. Glass and steel, chromes and diamonds.

Damn it.

The couple copy her move and stand up also, and the brunette waves a hand around to their outdoors. "I have to make a call but Jackson could show you around the grounds?"

April smiles, though she rages in jealousy on the inside. The grounds, how posh did that sound?

Stephanie was upper-crust, well-cut and spoken about. She knew what she wanted and how to get it. She had everything, body and brains and finances.

It's not that April was a greedy person, because she truly wasn't. She'd always prided herself on eating leftovers if available and saving money if possible. She knew her morals, her self-worth.

But watching rich people trot around with grounds was a little bruising on that precious pride of hers.

"Sure." Jackson sends a look down at the wedding planner, pushing a hand out against the large glass door that leads outside. She follows his steps as the bride whips out her cell phone and starts scrolling through her contacts.

The door lingers open behind them as they step outside, out into the cool air and Seattle breeze.

"Show me the grounds." April teases with a perked brow, facing him indirectly out of the corner of her eye.

"With pleasure."

She almost slaps him when he rests a hand on the low of her back, guiding her down a long pathway to a flowing water fountain in the middle of the land.

There's a statue of a small boy coming over the side of the fountain, one hand outstretched to pour droplets of fresh water down onto the flowers below.

April pulls her face as she eyes the display, unsure of its need.

"It came with the place." He explains with a tilt of the head, eyeing her grimace amusedly.

She shrugs, smooths a hand over the boy's granite fingertips with disdain. "It's kind of useless, don't you thin-" She cuts herself short when the index finger falls from the statue's hand, dropping into the flowerbed casually.

The redhead stares up at Jackson with wide eyes, lips parted. "I'm so sorry." She gulps when he takes a step closer to her, brushing past her side to pick up the broken piece of stone.

Jackson smirks, twirling it around carelessly between his own fingertips. "It's fine." He finds her clumsiness endearing, though he does wonder if he's somehow bringing it out of her.

"Please don't tell me that was worth a lot of money?" She frowns, chewing into her lip as she stares at the slightly fractured statue. It looks expensive, but the statue is barely even noticeable given the size of the water basin.

"If it was, it isn't anymore." He jokes, earning a swat of her hand against his chest.

April rolls her eyes as his prod, "That's mean." She fakes a pout with arms crossing over her chest.

Play hard to get. Steal the fucking groom.

Remembering Lexie's few not-so-wise tips, she pushes a strand of hair her ear and licks her lips, encouraging the man to take a step closer.

It's wrong to be playing this game.

"Well you did just ruin a beautiful fountain." He informs her, hands behind his back as he steps closer to her, stopping before her chest and head lingering close to her own.

"Can you forgive me?"

"Can you make me?"

She lifts a brow with a mild grin, "I can try." She swallows a breath when he leans down finally, pressing his lips against hers sweetly, dangerously so.

She feels a hand drop to her hip as her hands run up his chest, tongue sweeping at his lips as she takes a step backward, heel of her shoe colliding with the edge of the fountain's base.

Jackson pushes his hands deeper into her sides, leading her further back into the side of the water pool, unaware of what his action will entail.

April loses her balance against him, feeling her legs bend at the knees as she falls backwards. Her fingertips barely scratch at his shirt before she's falling down into the cool water, dragging him alongside her.

As her back hits the steady water, she pushes his weight off her so she can find her ground, her bearing. Emerging from the water, she gasps with a rub of her hands over her face and hair. "Jesus!"

He spurts out water beside her, not even half as drenched as she is.

"Nice to know you're still wet for me." He cracks out the joke after clearing the water off of his face, sniffling his nose as he stands.

April just rolls her eyes, accepting his hand to help her follow his lead and stand. Stepping out of the fountain, she begins her walk back down to the house, mansion, attempting to clear her conscience.

Maybe this is definitely a bad idea.

He goes to catch up with her then, but not before forcing the small broken piece of stone between the boy's tight legs, wedging it in deep in the middle of his lap.

* * *

"Explain it to me one more time."

April folds her arms over her chest, fingers wrapping around her sleeves. She shivers from the cold breeze blowing in through the open window.

Turning her head to the side, she notices the way Jackson is stood with his hands behind his back, restraining himself as his pale blue shirt clings to his damp skin.

"Explain."

"I dropped my purse?"

He's turning her into a klutz, obviously.

"And you're soaking wet…again…why?" Stephanie hitches a brow, thankfully accepts two dry towels from her maid. She passes the pair the towels, one in each hand with an inquisitive stare.

"The, uh, the fountain. Her purse dropped in the fountain."

"And you leant over to get it back?" April nods, blowing out her lips and flickering long lashes. "So why are you wet?"

The question is direction at Jackson this time, and the man stills with wide eyes.

"She fell in, so-"

"So you leant over to get her back?"

He loosely smiles, bouncing back on his heels, "Yeah."

Stephanie sighs, shaking her head at their story. "This week isn't getting off to a great start, is it?" She runs a hands over her face, parting her lips with a click, "Maybe this isn't a good match, April."

"Me working for you?"

"You working for me and him." The brunette corrects her, hands folding in her lap as she takes a seat at the fancy glass dining table. Her brows raise as she eyes the redhead. "I mean it's just mishap after mishap, and we're never gonna get any actual planning done if this continues."

"Let me worry about the planning, okay?" April tries, pressing both hands against her chest as she talks. "It's my job, and I'm great at it, and a few little…disasters…aren't the end of the world." She nods to reassure, convince Stephanie of her words, "Trust me. Your wedding is my main priority, right now. I have no personal life, no cats to feed, alright?" She laughs nervously. "You and Jackson- You and your groom… Your happiness is my goal."

"Alright."

"Alright?"

Stephanie stands back up, lips taunt and eyes sharp. She toys with the collar of her dress, flicks a quick look at her watch as she speaks. "I'll trust you." The darker skinned woman nods, shoots a glance at her fiancé. "We'll trust you."

"Good." April smiles, wraps her right hand over her left, "Thank you."

"It does make me sad to hear that you don't have much of a personal life, though. You deserve to have some fun, we all do. Hey, how about I set you up with one of my co-workers?"

"I don't think she'd want that-" Jackson turns to face the redhead mid-sentence, cut short by her own answer to the proposition.

"I'd love that. Really." A small smile, and a sparkle in her eyes grace April's face.

Stephanie smirks, moves to rest a hand on Jackson's shoulder. "See?" She gloats with raised brows, "We can double. I'll give George a call."

"George?"

"George O'Malley. He's just transferred up from California. Oh, you'll love him." She shakes her head as though it'd be an unimaginable sin to not adore the man in question. "Are you free tonight?"

The ginger clears her throat, "Yes. Yeah. I am, yeah." She licks her lips, ignores her one-time-flame's death stare.

"Steph? You wanna double date tonight? That soon?"

The brunette frowns, lowers her hand from around his muscled arm. "Is that a problem? Did you have other plans that I wasn't aware of?"

The green-eyed man sighs, disguises it as a shallow breath, "Nope. We just… We had that dance lesson at nine, remember?"

Too cowardly to watch his one-time-lover on a first date in front of him, Jackson had somehow recalled the long since scheduled dance class his fiancée had booked them both into.

He wasn't exactly eager to further his ballroom dance skills, but if it would-

"Oh, well, George is a great dancer. You guys can come with. April? Yes?"

"Sure." April shoots the groom a wide-eyed look, half-sweet, half-teasing.

"Great." Jackson grumbles under his breath, brows raised and a mocking grin plastered over his lips.

* * *

"So… What's the plan?"

"What do you mean "what's the plan?", Lex? The plan is dance with some, one would imagine, good-looking guy, go out for dinner, get hammered, and-"

"And make the guy whose wedding you're organising jealous as hell?"

"Not entirely."

April pulls a blue dress from her closet, analyses it carefully before tossing it down on her bed along with about ten others.

"Go for the new black one."

"It's ballroom dancing, Lex. Not tango."

"The tango is a form of ballroom dancing, excuse you. Gosh, we used to watch Dancing With the Stars every week, how could you forget that?" Lexie fakes annoyance, rolls her eyes jokingly ad her legs folds up beneath her.

April shrugs, rummaging through her closet to find her new purchase. It was a thigh-length black dress with a white floral motif and an asymmetrical neckline. Tight, cute, hot.

"Yes. Good. Go with that one."

"How am I supposed to dance in this thing?"

"Tear it, I don't know." The brunette carelessly perts her lips, applies some chapstick. "Maybe if your dress rips, your little adulterer will lend you his jacket."

April tosses the dress over at her best friend, "Shut up!" She pulls a face, folds bare arms over chest, "What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were staying with Mark tonight?"

"Mark claims he has to work late and I am giving him the benefit of a doubt." She grins, gritted teeth and all.

"So we're believing him?"

"We're trusting him."

"Is love not strong enough for belief anymore?"

"Love doesn't mean everything can be forgiven or excused, April. It just means there's a chance worth taking."

* * *

 **NOTE** : I could have written more for this chapter but it feels like forever since I last wrote something, and I didn't wanna get into a whole other section of the story already. Saving that for next time. Thanks for reading, and I hope you keep enjoying what I do. :)

* * *

I imagine some lovely guest reviewers will have some harsh words to say about this because _it doesn't feature_ _rape, or unicorns or rainbows, or women portrayed as submissive creatures to their men_ , and well, it's by **me**. You hate me for no reason whatsoever, rude Guest reviewer who combines my name with Annie's for no reason whatsoever other than that you're severely deranged, so please read something else by someone other than myself. Excuse me for actually being able to write something good, of substance, in-character. Leaving anonymous hate is laughable. Have fun.


End file.
